


The Knight of the Phoenix

by ZeloAvarosa



Category: Knight of Phoenix (Original)
Genre: Action, Adventure, Fantasy, Original Story - Freeform, Other, to be added - Freeform
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-09-18
Updated: 2018-09-17
Packaged: 2019-07-13 20:13:01
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 934
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16025165
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ZeloAvarosa/pseuds/ZeloAvarosa
Summary: Long ago, the valley was gripped in corruption, lead by The Cult, a shadowy organisation centered at the heart of a mountain. An unknown warrior, draped in black and white, weilding a blade and fire magic, climbed the mountain to kill the corruption and shatter The Cult. On that day, two shooting stars streaked across the sky. Every year after that, those same two stars streak across the sky and gives us hope for the future. The land rememberes the nameless Knight, the Knight of the Phoenix.





	The Knight of the Phoenix

Arca was a village found on the furthest edge of the valley, right up against the mountain range. It was a small, isolated village without much to do, nothing spectacular to visit, and nothing important enough to dig out of the ground. Though it was small, it had a tight knit community. Everyone in the village would band together each night in warmth and song at the local Inn, Bruce’s Arca Inn. The daily tradition was to drink and play card games till the wee hours of the night, and while cheating became common place, it was only done out of bragging rights, as everyone would return what they won the next morning at the persons home with a smile and a wave.

Occasionally, however, there were strangers that visited from across the mountain range or from the rest of the valley. No one really knew where these people came from, or cared really. They were all strangers, who walked differently, and talked differently. Instead of joining in song, they would settle themselves at the bar, ask a few probing questions over a drink, and watch the rest have fun. The next morning these strangers would leave just as quickly as they appeared.

Today was another one of those occasions, as a stranger arrived clad in a dark cloak that fell to the ground as clumps of heavy snow clung to its fabric. Instead of hanging his cloak to the side, he kept it on. Instead of avoiding the creakiest boards, the stranger just walked in towards the bar, loudly announcing his arrival; not that anyone much noticed or cared.

The dark figure settled himself and sat on a wooden stool, hunched over with his face shrouded in darkness. He hadn’t even bothered to shake off the snow. The owner of the Inn, Bruce, was behind the bar, counting gold coins.

“What’ll it be?” he asked, his thick accent making it difficult to be understood.

“A hot meal would be nice,” the stranger replied

“Definitely foreign,” Bruce noted mentally. The stranger’s voice sounded rich, but he had never traveled anywhere else, so the source of the accent was a mystery. He barked a few orders to the kitchens, before turning to face the stranger.

“Where am I?” he asked.

“You’re in Arca, best town there be”

“And you know everyone round here?”

“Yep”

The stranger went silent. Bruce stayed with him, incase he had wanted to ask more, but it was only until the meal arrived, a rich stew of various meats and vegetables, that the stranger spoke again.

“Do you know who I am?”

“Huh?” Bruce asked, the question caught him off guard, it wasn’t a threat, it was a genuine question.

“I’m asking if you know my name.”

The stranger tilted his head upward to meet the innkeepers face, letting the light shine on beneath his hood. It revealed a wicked hooked thing, like a plague doctor’s mask, made of dark metal. It was a helmet, shaped in the image of a bird’s beak.

——————

His name would be Avis, the two agreed, at least while his name remained unknown.

The noise of hearty celebration faded away to Avis’s story, of how he had found himself in the snow, without any memory of who or where he was. He had managed to find his way down the mountain and in to this town. The only thing on his person was a rapier. It was an elegant, thin blade, sharp at its tip, with an intricately carved handle. Its polish had faded to the elements, but even in this state Bruce could tell it's the most well-made weapon in the whole village.

“And now, I’m here,” Avis finished, as he polished off the warm meal, the stew disappearing beneath the helmet.

“You got no memory?” Bruce asked, he had already asked this a numerous amounts of times, but yet he couldn’t seem to accept the answer.

“I haven’t exactly tried to remember anything, but, my memory starts in the snow.”

 

By now it was early in the morning. The sing-song and warmth of the night had already gone home to rest, leaving behind passed out patrons, empty mugs and leftover playing cards. Workers moved from table to table like a swarm of busy bees, wiping tables and rousing customers to go home.

“You need a place to stay, then?” Bruce asked.

Avis paused before answering, “Well, I don’t exactly want to go back to my hole in the snow.”

A short chuckle seemed to break the tension in the air. Bruce sighed and dug under the bar.

“Good thing that there’s free rooms,” he answered, pulling out a large brass key. “First room upstairs to the left.”

“Thank you very much” Avis grabbed the key while bowing slightly

“I’m expecting payment for food and shelter, if you’re thinking of freeloading. I want you helping out around the place, mister.”

Avis stopped on the first stair for a moment before answering. “Very well then.”

The room was small, with just one bed and with a tiny window as the only notable feature. Aven left his cloak hanging off a coat hook that was built into the back of the door.

He sat on his bed, letting the sounds of the night fade away as time passed. Aven didn’t feel sleepy, or even tired. Instead, his attention was captivated by his own arm. It wasn’t hairy, like Bruce’s, or smooth like other patrons. It looked like armour plate. The same dark metal of his mask also was worn across his arm and body.

“What am I?”


End file.
